


Bring Out Your Dead

by Paraphilia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Ficlet, Grief/Mourning, Internal Monologue, Killing, Loss, M/M, No Dialogue, POV Second Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Regret, Survivor Guilt, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paraphilia/pseuds/Paraphilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He isn't even the first person you killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Out Your Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the premise that Harry killed Draco during the war.

You don't, you shouldn't, you can't. He isn't even the first person you killed. He's the third. Fourth. You can't be sure. Maybe that makes you worse, the fact that the count slipped, for a moment -- maybe that makes you better. It wasn't important then, anyhow. In the noise and the heat of battle, and the hex-bright trembling of air -- it almost didn't matter that you were killing people, until you were facing Malfoy, and then.  
  
Your count slipped. Froze. Restarted.  
  
You don't even know why. It's not like he  _mattered_. Pale Slytherin coward, always sneering, calling Hermione a Mudblood and letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts and trying to kill Dumbledore and going off with Snape. It's not like Malfoy mattered.  _It's not like Malfoy mattered_ , you tell yourself, and then you get out of bed for the umpteenth time and vomit into the sink.

You keep dreaming of him. Night after night. It's even worse than the Sirius dreams. Because with Sirius you can remember the good things, and that somehow helps you cope, but with Malfoy all you can remember is --

\-- the give of Malfoy's stomach under your fist, with Fred and George holding him down --

\-- the curl of Malfoy's smirk over Umbridge's shoulder, the burn of  _I must not tell lies_  on your still-raw skin --

\-- Malfoy's robes suddenly wet with blood,  _Sectumsempra_  echoing in the air --

\-- Malfoy's body falling, crumpling to the ground, only to be nudged aside by an Auror's foot.

Even in death, Malfoy was in the way. He's still in the way. He's in your _head_ , snarling and spitting, and sometimes just staring off into space, like he had one day at the library when you'd walked in with Hermione and Ron, and Malfoy hadn't noticed you yet. You find yourself wondering, stupidly, what Malfoy looked like when you weren't around.

But it's Malfoy who isn't around. And you don't want to know what you look like. Ginny tries to touch your shoulder, after dinner, but something about you drives her away -- well, she knows you're a murderer now, so maybe that's it. Or maybe it's something else.

Hermione tells you that you didn't do anything wrong.  _You were only defending yourself, Harry_ , she says, and,  _It's not fair that you have to fight this war_ , but you know that Malfoy was only defending himself, too, and that Malfoy never wanted to fight at all. He was too frightened of it. Too damn weak. When you pointed your wand at him and cursed him, he was still fumbling for a hex, still looking at you with wide eyes, still opening his mouth, still breathing, still --

You don't. You shouldn't. You can't. He isn't even the first person you killed.

 

**Fin.**  



End file.
